


Serendipity

by elfiepike



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-30
Updated: 2007-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfiepike/pseuds/elfiepike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nino orders a pizza; Ohno is the pizza boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darkeyedwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Darkeyedwolf).



The _plan_ was that everyone would meet up at Nino's place for a night of drinking and general stupidity. Nino orders a pizza in preparation and buys a six-pack at the corner store; he even tidies up his living room a little bit.

One by one, they each offer their lame excuses.

Sho calls up and says, "I'm sorry, I gotta study tonight.... Maybe we can get together sometime this weekend?"

Aiba is suddenly required to babysit for some small relative or other (or possibly an animal, it isn't quite clear from how he described the situation).

Jun doesn't even call, just texts with THERE IS A HOT BOY PAYING FOR MY DRINKS so fuck him.

All of them suck.

Left to his own devices, Nino surfs the internet for porn and starts working on the six-pack, sitting in pajama pants and a wifebeater, slouching in his most slovenly manner. He gets into it, time passing in a blur. Nino has halfway forgotten that he had ordered anything to begin with when the doorbell finally rings; he glances at the clock and only forty minutes had gone by.

He feels simultaneously sour and turned on when he answers the door, strangely anticipatory, but he didn't expect that the pizza delivery boy would have such a charmingly vague expression on his face, as if the delivery boy spends all his time pondering some esoteric hobby and nothing in the real world could possibly compare.

The video Nino had downloaded is still playing in the background. Nino realizes he left it on at the same time that the delivery boy must have understood what that sound was, those breathy fake gasps. The delivery boy seems to shake himself from his internal stupor, sharpening right in front of Nino (even if it's only to raise his eyebrows in some signal of shock), saying, "Pizza delivery."

Nino has been called a terrible person more than once for his opportunistic instincts; when he's charmed, he can't help but want to do something about it. He can't help thinking, _There's a way I can work this to my favor_.

Nino smirks. "I'm not sure where my wallet is; mind coming inside for a minute?"

The delivery boy blinks, a full-facial action, and swallows. He hesitates on the threshold, but Nino is patient and holds the door open for him, shutting it fully when the boy is out of the way.

"Here, it might take me a moment--you can have a beer if you want," Nino says, and doesn't bother to watch, ducking into his bedroom to find his pants. His smirk grows unintentionally; the way his apartment is set up, a visitor has a perfect view of the computer from the front entranceway.

Even in the bedroom he can still hear the noise.

The delivery boy has slipped off his shoes--it must have been an automatic response, Nino thinks, amused--and set the pizza box on the table in the living room, next to the beer. He hasn't touched the bottles yet, but his eyes are wide, and he stands so still that Nino thinks he must be just on the verge of running, or sitting, or doing something, but he's caught by the screen.

Nino hadn't been looking for anything in particular, so this is your average super-close-up heterosexual stuff, no faces, just body parts and slick noises. With the blinds closed most of the light comes from the screen, and Nino's sure he would be able to see the actions reflected back in the delivery boy's eyes.

"Here," Nino says. "How much is it?"

The delivery boy drags himself away from the screen. "Um. How much is--"

"The pizza," Nino says. He can't stop grinning. This guy, this guy--

The delivery boy swallows again, staring at Nino, posed so still. Nino says, "Stay a while," encouraging and sly.

"The deliveries..."

"They can wait," Nino says.

Still smiling, Nino moves closer to the delivery boy, gently taking hold of his wrist through the uniform jacket. "Come on," he says, "sit down. Have a drink, on me."

The delivery boy sits with a thump on the low worn couch, looking up at Nino like he's in a daze.

Nino lets go of his wrist, and, still standing, opens a bottle of beer for him. He could do this in his sleep--probably a sign that he drinks too much--and spares only a moment's glance at the bottle-opener to be sure before he pops the cap off, looking up to see the delivery boy staring at him, staring at Nino's hands. The delivery boy shifts where he sitting, and Nino knows he's getting hard; Nino's luck has turned around today, to get this guy coming to his door with his perfect expressions.

"Here," Nino says, handing him the bottle. It's damp with condensation, and when the delivery boy takes it Nino slides his wet fingertips along the back of his hand.

"You should take off your jacket," Nino says, low, coaxing. It's not really a suggestion or even a request. Heat pools in his belly; he can be patient but only for so much longer. "Aren't you getting warm?"

The delivery boy nods, a quick, stuttering motion, and gets caught as he forgets to put down the beer and still tries to take off his coat.

"Let me," Nino says, taking the beer back and putting it on the table again, half-kneeling on the couch next to the delivery boy, sliding his hands underneath the coat and pushing it off the delivery boy's shoulders. The video is over already; Nino can perfectly hear the delivery boy's shuddering inhale as Nino's still-damp palms work their way down his arms.

Crouched over him like this, the delivery boy is breathing almost directly on Nino's collarbone. Nino hardens completely all at once, and holds onto the delivery boy's wrists, still tangled in the cuffs of his jacket. He puts his other knee between the delivery boy's legs, nudging him further back onto the couch; he can feel the delivery boy's hard-on against his thigh. The delivery boy's wrists are warm. "I'm going to kiss you now," Nino says.

The delivery boy tilts his head back, obligingly. "Okay," he says (as if it had required any response at all).

Still, Nino doesn't push with the first kiss; Nino's picky and kind of an asshole, so if he's going to kiss someone he wants to make sure it's worth it. But the delivery boy's lips are soft, and his mouth is responsive: Nino pushes with the second kiss, opening his mouth and licking at the delivery boy's until he does the same.

The delivery boy is--just right, Nino decides, just the right kind of kisser, resisting just enough to be interesting and not so much that Nino does all the work, which is--yes, just--yes--the delivery boy makes a noise in the back of his throat, pressing his hips up so that his erection is pressing against Nino's knee and thigh, and Nino is suddenly aware that they are both so very dressed, and he's firmly caught in the delivery boy's jacket, his grip unconsciously tight on the delivery boy's wrists. That really won't satisfy Nino's current needs.

"Wait," he says, unintentionally breathless, and at the delivery boy's fluttering lashes he explains himself, "you're too dressed."

The delivery boy nods, and Nino untangles himself from the jacket, pushing it off the back of the couch. The delivery boy, his hands suddenly free, wastes no time, skirting the bottom edge of Nino's wifebeater and pushing it up, just a little bit, leaning down as Nino slides his hands down the delivery boy's back to pull his shirt up and--and that leaves the delivery boy the perfect opportunity, really, Nino's belly right there--

Nino breathes in sharply when the delivery boy's tongue traces a line just along the elastic line of his pajamas. The delivery boy's hands hold Nino steady where he is, and then there his tongue is again, licking along the same line, sensitized from the damp and from the texture of the delivery boy's tongue.

Nino forgets what he's doing, bracing himself on the back of the couch. It can't be comfortable for this guy, he thinks, but the thought derails when the delivery boy smooths his hands down Nino's hips, under his pajamas, when the delivery boy starts sliding Nino's pajamas down--and Nino can't see it, so he can only infer it because the delivery boy's hands are so precisely holding his hips steady that is must be this way, it can't be anything but his mouth--and he had thought he was hard before, but the feeling of the cloth against him and the thought of the delivery boy's teeth holding the fabric of his pants not even inches away--

Nino holds his breath, then can't, then says, "Yes, please, please," under his breath, closing his eyes.

The elastic bit of his pajamas brush the head of his cock and he whimpers, and then the delivery boy does, with no hesitation, like Nino is just all for him to enjoy, like each time he closes his mouth around Nino it's something to be savored. He swirls his tongue in the most devious ways, the most--one of his hands leaves Nino's hips, sliding down Nino's leg absently, trailing his nails up and then smoothing along Nino's ass. The delivery boy's mouth is hot and wet, and his tongue--Nino thrusts involuntarily, he had always taken it as a matter of pride to be in the most control possible, but this was too much, he could feel everything building up all at once. "I'm coming," Nino says. "I'm--"

The delivery boy practically deep-throats him all at once, while Nino comes in his mouth.

It's really--it's really not fair that anything should be so–

 _Oh_ , Nino thinks. _He actually--he swallowed and everything._

The delivery boy licks him one last time, his hands still tight, and Nino takes a second to catch his breath. "That's--let go," Nino says, because really, it's a matter of pride--or something-- "Let go, please," Nino says again, putting himself upright, pushing the delivery boy's shoulders back against the couch when he reluctantly loosens his grip on Nino's hips. Nino doesn't bother worrying about his pajamas, just holds the delivery boy steady and leans over to kiss him, once; he's only tasted himself on someone else a handful of times, but on the delivery boy it's even better, like he's added something addictive to the mix. "You're making me look like a bad host," he says; all this time the delivery boy has been moving against Nino's leg, and if he came in his pants--it's a matter of pride. Among other things.

He kisses the delivery boy again, balancing his weight carefully, sliding his hands down his chest, over his shirt and to his belt, undoing it while the delivery boy is otherwise occupied. The delivery boy tries to take a hold of his wrists, but Nino bats him away without even properly acknowledging the movement; Nino's as good with belts as he is with bottles. Better, even, quick and fast--he kisses the delivery boy and takes a hold of him in his hand at the same time, feeling a rush when the delivery boy moans into his mouth.

He pulls back for a second, in part to admire his handiwork; the delivery boy may have gotten him off first, but now Nino can appreciate the delivery boy's flushed cheeks, the way his chest moves quickly with every breath, his cock erect from his pants and boxers--the delivery boy doesn't say anything, but licks his lips, his hands clenching futilely at the couch cushions.

Nino holds out his hand close to the delivery boy's mouth. He doesn't need to say it, because the delivery boy's opened his lips already (they're slick and slightly swollen, and the delivery boy's tongue is pink when it emerges) but he commands it anyway because that's more his style: "Lick it," and the delivery boy licks, like despite everything else he would be happy to lick Nino's palm for as long as Nino wanted him to.

Nino isn't _that_ cruel, stealing his hand away to kiss the delivery boy, and taking him again in his hand. The delivery boy is really good with his mouth, almost distractingly so, but he was so close anyway that it's not more than a minute before he's gasping again into Nino's mouth, throwing his head back against the couch, his eyes tightly shut as he comes in spurts against Nino's hand and leg.

Nino grins, feeling triumphant, and buries his face into the delivery boy's neck, sucking hard--and then he's finished, but still gasping, his hands fluttering along the back of Nino's head but not actually doing anything so Nino stops only when he feels like it. When Nino looks at it, in the strange gloomy light of the room, he's pleased with the mark, and with the spent expression on the delivery boy's face.

When the delivery boy's breathing seems steady again, Nino says, "So, what's your name?" His tone is perfectly conversational as he discreetly wipes his hand off against his pajamas, pulling them back on. He has more pants somewhere.

"I'm Ohno," the delivery boy says, blinking again, shaking his head a little. He sits up straighter, and tucks himself in, but still looks dazed, his eyes focusing on random points around the room.

Nino scoots back and stands up off the couch, yawning and stretching. there's a strange noise--"Is that your cell phone?" he asks.

"Ah," Ohno says, yawning himself as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Ah, hello?"

Nino could hear someone yelling even as he went over to turn on the overhead light; the sudden illumination was momentarily blinding. By the time his eyes adjust, Ohno is already closing his phone and putting it away.

"It looks like I can stay a little longer--" Ohno starts, bemused.

"Yeah?" Nino turns off his computer screen on the way back to the couch, this time sitting comfortably next to Ohno.

"I, ah, took too long for the next couple deliveries." Ohno sounds sheepish more than anything else.

Nino had thought he'd felt victorious before, but no, this is the true feeling of triumph. His heart swells with his accomplishments. "You can have the beer now if you're just hanging out."

"Okay," Ohno says.


End file.
